Up in Willow Park. Just downloaded William Faulkner's "As I Lay Dying". Seemed appropriate. Death watch. It's slow. Dignity in the indignity? Beauty in the morose? Definitely no direction. Just sit. And watch. And wait. Everyone acts differently. No protocol. Not what I had on my bingo card this week. No one escapes this, death of a loved one. Life is short - what they say. For the one in the hospice bed not wanting to let go you wonder how quickly it went for them...what are they hanging on to? What do they wish they had been able to accomplish or experience, even at age 88? What am I supposed to feel? Sun is still shining. Gotta go back to work on Monday. I guess I'm fortunate. I know I am fortunate. Where do you file this experience? You gotta put it on the shelf somewhere. I'll put it up there in the No Regrets category. Maybe no dollar value or equivalency but cosmic value. The times up here at the lakehouse - it's just an extension and part of the package. But no jet skis or Babe's this time. Looks different this time around. Not better. Not worse. Different.
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